


First day

by ravenclawsquill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Training, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawsquill/pseuds/ravenclawsquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Draco's first day at the Auror Academy. He's determined to make the right choices this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First day

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this short fic to ease myself back into writing, and to practice the tricky present tense; it's been a while, so I was nervous! I'm happy with how the piece turned out, so I've entered a couple of fic fests. I'm sure you'll see me around. 
> 
> I'd like to thank my beta, the remarkable Celestlyn, for her exceptional work improving the flow of this fic, for making me think, and for joining me on a journey down the rabbit hole of wordcraft.

Draco has been awake since before the sun rose, before the day even truly began. It was always going to be a long night.   
  
Restless, he eventually rises to sit at the window, watching as the first sliver of light inches its way over the horizon, and then, as it spills across the city, bathing it in a warm glow. Each minute crawls by, painfully slowly, and Draco sits very still, breathing deeply. A clock chimes in the distance, ringing in the hour he has been waiting for.   
  
Draco feels a surge of nerves as he looks at his clothes: grey trousers, blue shirt (long sleeved, of course), fashionably short cloak, all folded neatly over a chair, waiting to be climbed into. His boots stand to attention by the radiator, ready for battle; the finest dragonhide, imported from Italy. He hasn't worn them since his trial, a lifetime ago.   
  
He gets up and looks in the mirror. As usual, the face looking back at him isn't quite the one he expects to see. His angular features are the same as ever – sharp nose, pointed chin, prominent cheekbones – but they are emphasised by the weight he lost during the six months spent in Azkaban, awaiting trial. It's been almost four years since his acquittal, but however much he eats, he can't seem to put it back on, can't recover that boyish roundness his face used to have. His hair is tidy and cut startlingly short: so short that his mother cried when she first saw it. He's found that he actually rather likes it, though his neck does feel slightly exposed.   
  
All in all, he looks presentable, if a little severe, with a wild look in his eyes that reminds him uncomfortably of his Aunt Bellatrix. It's not how he expected to look at twenty-three, but then again, his life hasn't turned out how he expected it to, either.   
  
He couldn't have prepared himself for the demands placed upon him during his teenage years, couldn't have imagined the horrors of the War, or understood the desolation of Azkaban. He certainly wouldn't have predicted that when that chapter of his life finally came to a close, he would apply to train as an Auror.   
  
The Auror Academy didn't have a place for him, but Draco is stubborn. It took eight applications in total: each time, the rejection was based on his "character". His character, like he's a work of fiction plucked from the pages of a novel. They couldn't fault his NEWTs, though; his grades are flawless. Six O's, entirely self-studied (after all, who would have taught him?).  
  
His personal statement was identical in every one of his applications: the form requested an essay detailing why he wanted to become an Auror. Draco wrote countless drafts, thousands of words, but none of them seemed to do it justice. In the end, he submitted a single paragraph: "I was raised in an environment polluted by dark magic, and was forced to make choices that no child should ever have to make. As an adult, I can make different choices; I can refuse to be defined by my past, and use my unique experience to protect others."  
  
When the admissions team finally offered Draco a place, they warned him that even if he completes the training program, the Auror office will not want him. He suspects that they have taken him on in the hope that he won't be able to hack it, and he is looking forward to proving them wrong.   
  
It has been a battle to get here, but nothing compared to what is to come.    


  
***   


  
When Draco reaches the front door of the Auror Academy, he pauses. His heart is hammering in his chest. He takes one deep breath, to steady himself, before pushing the door open and striding in as if he possesses all of the confidence in the world.   
  
He stalks through the corridors like he owns them; as though he's never stumbled on the knife-edge between light and dark, and doesn't bear the dark mark, as stark against his pale skin as the day he received it. He gives no outward indication that he is dizzy with adrenaline, his stomach somersaulting beneath his shirt.

  
Draco listens attentively in his classes, takes detailed notes and asks all the right questions, beginning the monumental task of chipping through the icy reception of the Auror Academy staff. In the practical sessions he volunteers for every demonstration, but is never chosen. Draco wonders whether his teachers are afraid of him.   
  
The whispers and stares of his fellow students follow him all day, hanging in the air around him like a winter fog. Twice, spells are cast at his back as he walks between classes. Both times he deflects them easily, surprising his attackers.  
  
Draco keeps his face utterly impassive, and his chin held high. He knows that this makes him look haughty and perhaps even a little bored, but better that than to show any sign of weakness.   
  
Draco isn't here to make friends. It doesn't matter whether any of them like him. What he wants, what he _needs_ , is to earn enough respect for them to allow him to move forward, to finally cast off the spectre of his past.  


It won't happen overnight, and it certainly won't be easy, but Draco will make it happen. At sixteen, he made the wrong choices; at twenty-three, he is determined to make the right ones. Becoming an Auror is not enough to repair the damage he has caused – but it's a start.


End file.
